


High Voltage

by miruku_koohii (blissfire)



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Bandslash, Celebrities, M/M, Musicians, POV First Person, Performing Arts, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-17
Updated: 2009-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 04:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissfire/pseuds/miruku_koohii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>I think maybe I love him most of all when we're on stage doing High Voltage.</i> Written in honour of the infamous live video of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame performance. -mrow-</p>
            </blockquote>





	High Voltage

I think maybe I love him most of all when we're on stage doing High Voltage. It isn't a real stand-out song for me, lyrically; my job consists mainly of repeating the song title ad nauseum as a gravel base for Mike to lay himself out on. And that thought, for some reason, just jacks me way the fuck up. I stand back as Mike takes over the stage and just radiates that intoxicating energy and it's like I'm invited to play in Mike's sandbox for the day.

The song isn't quite comfortable to me, it doesn't fit me perfectly, but that just makes it exhilarating. It's Mike's show, and he knows it, fucking _owns_ it, and I watch from behind and to the side, bouncing in symbiotic excitement with him as he plays the crowd.

It isn't one of our popular songs; a lot of people have never heard it before we do it live, but you wouldn't know it to see the people in the pit. Almost no one sings along with him the way they do with me on the singles, but they always, always go where he takes them, even if all they can do to interact is swing their arms along with him as he belts out his baby.

A sea of waving extremities, tied to his voice like a kite on a string, crashing to the ground on the downbeat. And the thing about it, the thing that just gets me, is the _pull_ he has over them all. They scream all the time; the screaming starts before we get on stage and doesn't let up until long after we're gone, but for those few minutes, they're all screaming for Mike.

So am I.

For these few minutes, I'm just his backup, just there to fill in the blanks to let him catch his breath. And invariably, sometime in the middle of it, somewhere between the time he dominates the crowd and that hard, psyching-himself-up panting he does during my only semi-solo moment, I want nothing more than to fuck him raw. I almost bit him once in a fit of frenzied adoration. If I had an instrument I'd smash it to pieces in a therapeutic release, but all I have is my body and the mic.

So I scream.


End file.
